


Crashing Limits By Half

by dreams_of_sin



Series: Crashing Limits By Half [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, Domestic Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Male Character, Heavy Angst, M/M, Male Slash, Original Character(s), Original Slash, POV Original Character, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Physical Abuse, Slash, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:18:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreams_of_sin/pseuds/dreams_of_sin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love feedback. Good. Bad. Horrible. Just tell me</p><p>Also any grammer mistakes, or spelling mistakes point it out. I do not mind nor will I be offened. </p><p>I try my hardest to always write well grammatically because no matter how good a story is,it gets in the way of enjoyment. That's how I feel anyway.</p><p>Cillian - you pronounce the name of this dark haired mysterious youth as KILL-LI-AN, NOT Sillain. Ok? Please xp</p><p>Cez - It's a polish name short for Cezary. </p><p>There is alot of cursing here and swearing. Thats all really for now ... if you are suddendly expecting actions of violvnve and sex and love, it's not happening right away ... it's will biuld up through ...</p></blockquote>





	1. Thinking

I didn’t know who he was.

I didn’t know _what_ he was.

Or what he wanted.

All I did know was that on the day he arrived, on the day he made his appearance, made his self known in town, everyone was entranced. Intrigued. Captivated. Attracted.

As for me...I’m not sure what I initially made of him. He was to me just another person I’d met. Got acquainted with from work. Someone I had to communicate with only because I had to. I accepted him the same way I’d accept anyone new. I don’t judge. I don’t like them. But I don’t hate them either. So at first you could say I felt – nothing.

Until I got to know him. Until he began to seek me out.

So shamefully I admit...I did become intrigued. What could I do anyway? He came to me. It was natural I guess for me to fall the way I did.

But why it was that he singled me out, why he chose me, I still cannot comprehend. What was special about me? Or more to the point what was it about him that made me think he was special?

I never really think about things. Unless someone brings it to my attention, or asks me something that requires some kind of thought. I just drifted through my days like any other person really. You know wake up and eat, get to work, hurry through the day so I could do my own thing, whatever that was and day dream. I would take long walks through different parts of town to get to a favourite haunt. Or I would stay indoors and paint, watch TV, read a book and other days I’d deliberate whether to link up with some mates, maybe catch a movie, and pull some girls. You know normal things. But mostly I just preferred to be by myself.

I know most people would think its stupid; why waste an hour and a half walking when a 20 minute bus ride could do the trick? There are two reasons, one I don’t have the money, and the other is even if i did, i still would make it on foot. Because I like walking. I could go for miles without being consciously aware and end up at a place I know well. Kinda like second nature. It’s also the only way to get time to myself. A good long walk with my headphones blaring, alone in my own zone. I like the rhymes there, _headphones, alone_ and _zone_ , (nicked it from Eminem). One foot fall followed by another foot fall, a rhythm, a beautiful isolation. Peace.

He changed that, he did.

He changed that I liked to have my own company.

But he also broke into me, broke my dreams.

Woke me into reality.

And now I can’t stop thinking...


	2. Cez

Three letters.

One word.

His name.

It was November and cold. Dark nights and bitter wind. I was inside the warmth of the bright lights and customer bustle; work in a retail department store. Mindless, boring and frustrating, not to mention a brand new bunch of motherfuckin’ recruits for Christmas. I had to train them and show them the ropes. I had to treat them as potentially permanent staff and not temporary workers. That was fine by me. I didn’t care. Work was work and money was money, whichever way it was earned. My shift ended at 8 but it was 9.30pm by the time I left. Trade was good that day. Hence, the mess bigger than ever, which meant staying longer to tidy. By the time it was all over, the night truly descended. 

‘Good night and thank you Cillian’, said Alicia, as she finally finished randomly searching us and now opened the double sliding glass doors to let us out. She smiled, ‘are you in tomorrow?’  
I nodded.  
‘Good because i need you to put out the men’s delivery,’ and before i could answer she already turned to the next person, ‘Vey, do you think you could come in on the weekend for me, please, please!’  
The thing about Alicia is she could get you to do anything she wanted. But she didn’t have to, because everyone respected her. I like her. She’s different from most mangers. Okay she ain’t the top dog but an assistant manger is virtually the closest to it. The point is I like working with her, she makes the team good and maybe that’s why i ain’t quit my job yet.  
Seeing as i was already forgotten, i took it as my cue to leave. I know Vey would agree in the end.

I stepped out. The wind immediately slipped its way underneath my clothes, bathing my skin with its rough caress. Yes, it was unwelcome. Yes, i was tired. But for some reason I procrastinated going back. Back to the house. So i told myself i wanted a drink and some food. I began to walk swiftly towards the supermarket, the opposite direction of which I’m supposed to have headed. Once I was outside it, I just stared in, looked at the beeping tills, the harassed shoppers, the busy atmosphere, the constant queues. No. That wasn’t what i really wanted. Instead i found myself walking on briskly, and my subconscious knew where we were headed before i even thought of it. Not far off is this massive park, with lush fields to play in, plenty of trees to offer shade or shelter were it to shine or rain, a pond and a water fountain. There’s a specialised toddlers playground, then one for smaller kids and yet another zone designed for older kids, where the swings were much higher. More fun, more dangerous, that even the likes me could still go on them without feelin’ foolish. The best thing really was the way each playground was divided; it offered privacy and seclusion without any of the ugliness of man made rails. No, rather there were hedges, shrubs, even berry bushes and of course more trees. A skilfully laid web of small cobbled foot paths to navigate around completed this haunt of mine. In essence it was a lovely place, and I don’t often complement parks. I guess because it has got a wild naturalistic feel to it. There were no lamp lights near the older kid’s zone, so this part of the park was literally in shadows.  
I headed to the swings. Sat on the one nearest to me. The coldness of the seat seeped though the fabric of my jeans. I sighed, letting the wind rock me. My eyes closed. The gentle creek of the iron chains, the leaves, the occasional flutter of wings from birds, lulled me to a half sleep. I think there might have been a hint of smile on my face. I felt calm and at peace. My small bit of dark heaven.

My moment when I could pretend life was just fine and I was king. 

Until i heard someone. A harsh clang, the kind you get when you jerk a swing seat. I bit my tongue. Blood. My heart stilled. I wanted to jump off my seat, be on my feet, my instincts urged it but my body refused.  
All i could do was turn my head, look into the darkness, to locate the source of the noise. A youth about my height, he must have been here the whole time. His features are hard to see but i can tell he has light hair. I felt somewhat deceived by the night to think I was alone. Embarrassed to have been scared, even for a second. The pain in my mouth finally registered in my brain. My tongue really hurt. I sucked on it gently. Tasted the blood.  
Before i could think what to do, he approached my swing. ‘Heya,’ he said. I stood up. Said nothing. I mean what you can say to a total stranger that just half scared you to death? Are you a fuckin’ wanker? Piss off you dick!  
I acted like I didn’t hear him speak. I began to walk away. He could be a perverted manic killer, not that I’m being funny, or that I think I can’t handle the trouble, it’s that these day you just don’t know.  
‘Hey, wait one moment, please,’ he called. Hearing his hurried footsteps made me pause. If he was going to give me trouble, I was ready. But that wasn’t the case.  
He laughed. Nervously. ‘I think I startled you. It wasn’t my intention. You just – sort of invaded my space, I was hoping after a while you might go. I mean... ’ His voice - he sounded foreign. And it wasn’t just his accent; it was what he was saying. Invade his space? More like the other way round. What a bloody irony.  
I didn’t know what to say to that so blurted out the first thing that came to my head ‘where are you from?’  
‘It’s my English?’ He shook his head with a smile. ‘I’m Cez.’  
‘No, not your English,’ I said, ‘it was you accent.’ Come to think of it, what kind of name was Cez? This was the first i have ever heard of it.  
‘Ah,’ he nodded, ‘there is always gonna be some trace of your past on you. I just moved recently.’ And then as an afterthought he added, ‘i was just getting to know this place. I actually got a new job, on the high street, this shop called Red Hen.’  
‘Red Hen?’ I said. The shock, the surprise must have been evident in my voice.  
‘You know the place?’  
‘I work there!’ Almost immediately I regretted saying that. And whys he telling me all this?  
I hear him let out a small breath. He laughs. ‘Now that is what you call a coincidence’ he says to me softly. ‘Who would’ve thought,’ he wonders out loud, almost to himself.  
I said nothing to that. There’s a moment of silence, which eventually I break, ‘Well, eh, i need to go.’  
‘Sure,’ he said. He stood where he was, a half smile playing on his lips as i turned to go. I reach the exit and I’m about to turn out when he calls to me again.  
‘I don’t know your name.’ It’s not a question and yet i know it is. And i realise any other normal person might have volunteered it, especially now that we knew we would properly see one another again. Right? I see his half smile fade.  
‘Cillian,’ i say quickly. It’s too late, he’s noticed my hesitation. ‘See you around then,’ i add to try and cover the moment.  
He simply nods.  
I leave. 

Shit. Shit...I’m speed walking, trying to make up lost time. I’m hurrying, my thoughts all in a whirl. Cez. I glance at my watch and see it’s almost 10 past. An hour since finishing work. I pass the supermarket. Two hours from when I’m meant to have finished work. How would i explain my lateness to the bitches back at the house? I past the Red Hen. I shrug to myself. Why should i even have to explain? But that’s life. My life anyway. And as much as I hate to admit, my family.  
It’s only when I’m at the door I realize, he never told me where he came from. And perhaps I’d come across as impolite. Okay, he startled me, but come to think of it, I was rather too distant and cautious. It was his voice; low and polite, which was the real reason I felt slightly bad. However, before I can get a proper chance to analyse my behaviour, the front door swings open.  
I’m looking at a I face I hate  
I’m back.  
The sudden yellow brightness spilling from the house, into the porch, into my face, throws me a little. I blink. I breathe. Recover. Ready for the onslaught.  
‘You’re late!’  
Her voice is grating. Jarring. So unnecessarily loud, bordering on shouting. I look up; stare at her face; messy smudged red lipstick, black and grey hair, more grey then black, straggling everywhere and wearing a dirty shapeless thin nightwear.  
I keep quiet. I do this very deliberately, and I walk in past her as if she was a door mat or umbrella stand. She slams the door shut, follows. ‘I am talking to you! You’re late! Where were you? What have you been doing? I know you finished long ago!’ Her voice rises a notch, and this pleases me a little because I know very well my blank face, my lack of reaction has pissed her.  
But then what could I say that would be acceptable in my defence? I finished work later then I thought, then I decided to go for a walk because I knew this was exactly what was waiting for me? Either way they got it through their minds I’m a delinquent. Secretly doing drugs and getting off on my head and women hunting.  
They could not be more wrong.

Then he comes to the hallway. That stupid bastard who is my father and it angers me so much just to think those fuckers are my parents.  
‘DONT INGORE YOUR MOTHER!’  
‘Huh ...?’ Finally I show some response, and look up.  
‘SHE ASKED WHERE YOU WAS, COMING BACK SO LATE AT NIGHT?’  
‘Oh, erm work,’ I answer ever so calmly and casually. But what i really wanted to say was: I came from work. I'm really tired. But I didn't want to come back here. Went for a quick walk instead. And met a strange boy. Turns out he may soon be someone I will get to know soon. It's not even that late ... 10.20pm. So why the fuck you all shouting for like I committed a crime.

That is what I really wanted to say. But even then it would be no use. I leave the hallway and head towards the room that acts as my bedroom, closing the door behind me. It is actually the dining room. I sleep downstairs. I fumble around my jacket and plug in my head phones, pushing the volume as high as it could possibly go. It is gonna be another long night with those fuckers discussing my ‘abnormal’ and ‘intolerable’ behavior. Well if I can’t shut those idiots up, at least I don’t have to listen to them if I can help it. I sit on the sofa bed that actually serves as my real bed too. I don’t bother to undress or even remove my jacket. I just kick off my trainers and curl up. I let the music invade my confusing thoughts.

And the last image I see before falling asleep is a stranger masked in the darkness with hair that shines.

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback. Good. Bad. Horrible. Just tell me
> 
> Also any grammer mistakes, or spelling mistakes point it out. I do not mind nor will I be offened. 
> 
> I try my hardest to always write well grammatically because no matter how good a story is,it gets in the way of enjoyment. That's how I feel anyway.
> 
> Cillian - you pronounce the name of this dark haired mysterious youth as KILL-LI-AN, NOT Sillain. Ok? Please xp
> 
> Cez - It's a polish name short for Cezary. 
> 
> There is alot of cursing here and swearing. Thats all really for now ... if you are suddendly expecting actions of violvnve and sex and love, it's not happening right away ... it's will biuld up through ...


End file.
